Survivor's Guilt
by Isobel Morgan
Summary: Season Three: Set at the end of 'Children Of Auron', as Cally makes her decision whether or not to stay on Liberator.Another part of my Should I Stay Or Should I Go? musings


**Survivor's Guilt**

Cally handed the glass and tablet over to Eliza Franton, who was sitting at the table in the medical unit.

"Thank you. How long did you say was left until we reached Kaarn?

"About another fifteen hours, I think," Cally replied.

Franton noted the other woman was still looking pale and shaken, which was hardly surprising considering what they'd all been through recently. She herself was still suffering from a few after-effects of the plague that Servalan had released on Auron, not to mention the shock of the scale of destruction it had wreaked on their planet.

But then Franton knew she had reverted to her most professional mode and had not let herself think about that, focussing instead on the task in hand; the establishment of a new colony on a new planet. The incredibly heavy responsibility of the survival of the Auron race was in her and Reg Patar's hands, and she knew that if she gave in to the terrible feelings that hovered at the edges of her senses, she would be endangering this survival.

And it was more than that. It wasn't that she believed Cally any less capable than herself, but then Cally had been born through the process of spontaneous cell differentiation that Franton's father had developed and that meant that Cally's telepathic abilities were a lot stronger than Franton's own, which in truth were rather limited, even more so among humans.

Before the cloning method had taken over, psychic abilities depended much more on genetic inheritance from the parent, whereas now - _then_, a part of her mind corrected coldly. _There isn't a now. Not any more. Thanks to that bitch Servalan there's only what you can do with the gene stocks on Kaarn. Which won't be much. _

Her father's processes had allowed deeper manipulation of the genetic code, and that had led to greater stimulation of the telepathic gene, creating children with much more advanced psychic capabilities.

Cally had been one of these children, and even after years away from their people, her skills would have been much more developed, and therefore her perception of the psychic distress of their people as they were murdered would have been much more intense.

And then there was Zelda.

Franton was sorry to think of the woman's death; they had worked together for a long time and had become friends, but Cally was Zelda's identical sibling, a clone twin. The process created children with identical brain scans, allowing optimum telepathic affinity, and despite their physical separation of recent years the bond between Zelda and Cally would have been much closer than anything Franton could imagine.

She'd only personally known one person who had lost such a sibling previously, and he had taken a long, long time to recover from it, describing it as having a part of your mind ripped away. Franton didn't like to think about what must be going on in Cally's mind.

To be honest, she found it a little unnerving to be in the company of someone who was physically identical to Zelda, but so unlike her friend and colleague. Zelda had spoken of her sister often, and it had made Franton wonder how two genetically identical women could grow up to be so different; one becoming a scientist, dedicated to preserving all life at any cost (_and the cost had, ultimately, been her own life_, she added to herself), the other a renegade, exiled from Auron for dissidence and now a terrorist, wanted across the Universe.

Franton speculated what the others from that genetic stock had turned out like. Although that was a pointless thought, considering that all the others were probably dead by now, and if they weren't they would be soon. She didn't hold out much hope for the survival of any of those left on the planet; on top of everything else, Central Control and the replication plant had been destroyed. But that was behind her now. She had to think about the future, those five thousand children relying on her to be born.

"Fifteen hours... that's not long to make sure we have everything we need," Franton said, thinking aloud.

"Perhaps it was a mistake to sleep for so long. We still have a lot to do."

"You needed the rest," Cally told her. "We all did. You will need your strength."

"And more," Franton added.

She paused, considering the woman in front of her.

"You know, it's not too late for you to change your mind. You could still come with us. Goodness knows we could do with another pair of hands."

Cally raised her eyes to meet Franton's, and despite the barriers Cally had put up between herself and the universe, Franton could see the pain that still resided within them.

"That's about all that I would be," Cally replied, trying to inject a note of humour into her voice. "I've never been all that good with children."

"I'm not sure that I'm going to be," Franton confessed. "I mean, this is on something of a larger scale than anything I've ever been used to."

Cally hesitated for a moment, then asked tentatively; "Did you ever use ... I mean, did you have -?"

"Did I use the process to create offspring of my own? No. I considered it, but I decided to concentrate more on my work than family."

"You could have had them raised by a care group," Cally pointed out. "That's how Zelda and I grew up. And presumably the rest of our siblings too."

Franton shook her head.

"No. No offence, but that never seemed like a good way for kids to grow up to me. Perhaps because I was one of the last few natural births. I never understood why some people chose never to have any contact with their own children."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Cally replied. "Our 'parents' used to come and see us regularly, until they were killed. They believed it was the best way for us to be cared for and to allow then to continue their careers as well."

"Hmm," Franton said, then recalling what Cally had said earlier. "You said 'presumably'. Do you mean you never knew any of the others from your genetic group?"

"Not really. I know my father - my mother's partner, rather - created a batch of about six in his image, but that was just before he died, so they were brought up in a different care group. Which makes sense; I mean they weren't really related to us. We just call them siblings because of the relationship between our genetic parent and theirs."

"And there was just you and Zelda? Your mother only chose to create twins?"

"Not originally. There were more created before or after our batch, but I never met them. There were to be four of us in our group originally; one died shortly after birth and then a few years later Rakiri was mentally damaged so she was moved to a special care unit... did Zelda never tell you any of this?"

"I didn't ask. I know that sounds odd, with the nature of our work, but no, it never came up. She asked a lot about me though; I think she was fascinated with the idea of natural birth."

"That doesn't surprise me. She used to talk about it when we were younger. Probably because she knew she could never go through it herself."

Cally looked up sharply.

"Do you know why that was? Why your father decided to make us so that we could only reproduce through the same method of our own conception?"

"A little. I know he was worried at first about the effect that spontaneous cell differentiation might have had on the individual's reproductive capabilities. And then it had become such a success that natural reproduction had been virtually eliminated. I believe that it was seen as for the best. It did allow children to be born only to those who wanted to reproduce, after all."

"But what about those who left Auron? Those who no longer had access to the reproduction plant?"

Realisation struck Franton.

"I see what you mean. You feel that you've been cheated out of having children?"

"No! It's not that I want children of my own - how could I, the life I lead? I just dislike the way that the choice was taken away from us."

"I could always transfer your DNA to some of the unformed embryos in the gene stocks if you like," Franton found herself offering. "Yours and Zelda's DNA would be carried on that way."

"I - Thank you, but that isn't necessary. Unless you wish to. I know you were close to Zelda, and if you wish to use our DNA I will be happy to provide it."

Cally gave Franton an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to start on you. I suppose I was remembering my attempts to argue people round before I left Auron the first time. Personal freedom is an issue that I've been fighting for for a long time. Still, that's all irrelevant now, isn't it?"

"Yes," Franton agreed, briskly turning her mind from the horrifying implication of Cally's words.

"And in a way I suppose I get to have children now, don't I? Not genetically my own, of course, but I'll be their primary carer, if not their parent."

"Yes well, rather you than me," Cally told her, raising a small smile.

"Is that the only reason?" Franton asked. "You're turning down possibly the only chance you'll ever have to be with your people again. I know it can't ever be the same, but-"

"No," Cally replied firmly. "I appreciate your offer, I really do. And yes, I have wanted to be with other telepaths, very much so, but I can't go with you. My place is here."

"Here? On this ship? Destroying your life by chasing after what's left of the Federation?" Franton tried to understand the other woman but she could not. "Why?"

"Why? How can you ask that? I thought you understood. You've seen what the Federation can do. Has done. And their crimes aren't limited to Auron. Hundreds of planets have suffered because of the Federation, and all of those under its control are suffering still. There is no place for freedom in their universe."

"We managed it perfectly well for long enough," Franton threw back bitterly, unable to stop herself.

She'd always opposed the isolationists and while that view had not changed - after all, if they had not been so cut off from the rest of the universe, their race would not have been so susceptible to the virus - her supporting of Cally's point of view concerning opposing the Federation, well, now that she thought again, she realised that much of her support towards Cally had been because of Zelda and her links with this woman. How could she not trust someone who was virtually identical to her friend and colleague?

She had assumed that because Cally had left Auron over the issue of isolation, her views on other causes were also in line with Franton's own, but knowing what she did now, she had to wonder if her faith in these rebels and their cause had been misguided.

"Servalan massacred our people because she wanted the Liberator. And if you hadn't been on board then maybe she would have left us alone."

Cally stood up, her eyes blazing with anger at Franton's words and Franton realised that she was more than a little afraid of this woman.

"Say that again," Cally hissed. "I don't care if you are responsible for the life bank, if you say that again I will kill you."

"That's your lot's solution to everything, isn't it?" Franton practically shouted, also getting to her feet. "Hasn't there been enough killing?"

"I tried to help our people. We found a cure, didn't we?"

"Not in time," Franton retorted and Cally snapped. Marching over to Franton she slammed the other woman back against the wall, her arm held across Franton's throat.

"How dare you? You think that perhaps by blaming me for all that happened, it will change anything? Or do you think that I don't realise all of that myself? Don't wonder why I have survived when so many others have died? I know that I do not deserve to be alive any longer, but I intend to make my death count for something, even if all it brings is Servalan's death."

There was a slight cough from the doorway.

"Am I interrupting something?" Avon asked.

Cally stepped back, releasing Franton, then without looking at either of them, she stormed out, pushing her way past Avon. Franton composed herself, smoothing down the front of her clothing and looked over to Avon, who was standing in the doorway with folded arms. Neither said a word, then Avon turned away and walked after Cally.

She was moving fast, but he caught up with her and as he did, she stopped and turned to confront him.

"What do you want, Avon? At least I know you haven't come to give me false comfort, to tell me it wasn't my fault and that everything will be alright."

Avon ignored her words.

"What was all that about? Didn't enough of your people die without you needing to finish off the last few who are left?"

Cally went white with fury and moved to hit Avon, but her emotional state unbalanced her and, sidestepping, he caught her hand before she could make contact.

"So you're going to start on me now?" he said mildly.

"Is there anyone left on board you haven't tried to attack recently?"

Cally just stared at him, her entire body shaking with suppressed emotion, but then she slumped, leaning back against the wall. Avon released her hand.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I just- I can't take it all in."

"That's understandable. But no good can come of all this, especially arguing with Franton."

"It wasn't Franton I was angry at," Cally explained wearily, pushing her hair back from her face.

"Everything that she said was true. It is all my fault."

"All?" Avon asked, still employing the same mild tone. "Are you suddenly responsible for the Universe? For the actions of your own people? For Servalan?"

Cally's head jerked back up again at the mention of Servalan.

"It was because of me that she did this. Because she wanted the Liberator. She murdered my people because she knew it would bring us here and she could take the ship. It's my fault."

Cally's eyes bored into Avon's, the sheer force of her pain and guilt spilling out into her words.

"Don't you understand? It was my fault. Mine. I as good as killed them myself."

"Don't be ridiculous. You couldn't have foreseen this. Nobody could have."

"And that makes it alright? It absolves me, does it? You can't change what happened-"

"Precisely. Feeling guilty won't help anyone, least of all yourself."

"I don't care about myself. I don't matter."

"Yes, I heard all that. I thought you'd outgrown that absurd notion. It is not your death that matters Cally, it is your life."

"Yes, and that's been such a success, hasn't it?" Cally replied bitterly.

"Cally." Avon grabbed hold of her, resisting the urge to try and shake some sense into her.

"Stop this. You have survived when most of your people did not. Feeling guilty about that will change nothing. You survived. Live with that."

Before she could stop herself, Cally had let slip the desperate thought that she was trying not to face up to.

/ _I don't think I can_ /

It wasn't just the words that Avon heard inside his head. A barrage of unspoken emotions and connected memories hit him as Cally let down her guard.

The intense feelings of grief and pain at losing her sister, at the deaths of so many of her people, felt at such extreme close range; the feeling of helplessness that she could do nothing to save them, just as there was nothing she could have done to save those on Saurian Major; the burning rage and hatred directed at Servalan; and above all the guilt.

Survivor's guilt was a concept that meant very little to Avon; his own survival rated higher to him than anyone else in the universe (_anyone left alive,_ he found himself thinking, his mind automatically reverting to thoughts of Anna, as that had been so frequently of late). Pushing that aside, he tried to focus on what he could do to pull Cally out of this detrimental way of thinking. He understood that she needed to grieve, but she was of no use to him in the depths of despair.

He needed her to be the Cally he knew; strong, dependable, a woman who didn't let anything stop her when she set her mind to it.

"You survived," he repeated. "There was a reason for that. There is still something that you can do. You are a member of this crew and you are still needed, Cally."

Cally just gazed back at him, a hopeless look in her eyes.

/ _Needed? I don't believe you _/

"Believe it. Mourn all you want, but I won't allow you to self-destruct in this way. Not on my ship."

Finally, a tiny spark came back into Cally's eyes.

"Your ship?" she asked, choosing to speak aloud this time, a note of faint amusement in her voice. "And what happens if I decide to leave?"

"You won't," Avon replied dismissively, releasing his hold on her.

"Your place is here on Liberator."

"Because you say so?" Cally challenged, grabbing his arm to stop him walking away from her.

"Because I know so," he retaliated. "I don't believe you would want to spend the rest of your life raising children on an empty planet. Especially not while the Federation still stands and as long as Servalan is still out there."

He watched Cally's reaction carefully, but she had begun to regain control of herself by then, and he could no longer see what lay behind her eyes. She let go of his arm.

"Pointless revenge does not achieve anything," she said calmly, repeating the words she'd said to him earlier, her opinion of his pursuit of Shrinker.  
"Perhaps," Avon replied. "But when it comes to Servalan, personal doesn't have to enter into it."

Cally looked down, taking a deep breath to control herself better.

"I should find Franton," she said. "I should apologise. I didn't mean to take it out on her. She's upset too."

"The sooner they are off this ship, the better," Avon remarked brusquely, recognising that Cally no longer needed him to talk her round and therefore seeing no need to continue. "We have better things to be doing."

Cally bit down on the retort that sprang to her lips. She'd known Avon too long now to let his every harsh word upset her. She let him walk away, deciding to return to her cabin to calm herself more before seeking out Franton again. Instead, on the way, she found Reg Patar. The wary look in his eyes told her he'd already heard of the confrontation between her and Franton. She held up her hands.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to attack you."

"Good," he replied nervously. "That's good. Do - do you know how long before we make planet fall?"

"A little under fifteen hours, I believe," Cally told him.

"I've never left Auron before," he confessed. "Never wanted to. Didn't think that if I ever did it would be like this. Are you - have you decided-?"

"I'm not going with you, no," Cally replied, surprising herself at the decisiveness of her answer, although she had always known what it would be. Even the draw of being surrounded by other telepaths once more, something she had wanted so desperately before, wasn't enough to make her change her mind. She wasn't suited to a life of rebuilding a community, not when her ties to the Liberator were still strong and while there was still a cause she felt strongly enough about to be worth dying for, whatever Avon had said.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you."

"Oh you've done plenty," he told her. Cally studied him closely but could see no sign of insincerity. Either he felt differently to Clinician Franton, or he didn't know about her part in Auron's destruction.

"Without this ship, I don't think the life banks would have stood a chance," he continued. "I mean, we had ships, but I don't think we would've been able to launch them, not with the state of things when we left."

Cally wondered how he could be so calm, unless it was all a front. Who had he lost on the planet? Stupid question.

"Is there much else that needs to be done before we get to Kaarn?" she asked.

"Well, a crash course in child-raising would be good," he half-joked. "Do you know any good ways of controlling five thousand kids?"

"You're going to grow all the foetuses at once?" Cally asked, surprised.

"No! That was just a joke. I mean, we're going to try to grow them all eventually, but we thought it best to start small. You know, only birth a dozen or so in the first few months, then take it from there."

"That's still a lot of work," Cally pointed out, his words only serving to strengthen her resolve to stay on board Liberator.

"Mmm. But hopefully, by the time the first few children have grown up a little, they'll be able to help in the raising of the rest. And there's always a chance that some of the survivors back on Auron will be able to organise an evacuation and follow on. Maybe even get back to Auron one day."

"Really?"

"Yes. Well, I hope so. I mean, I was only a flight controller, but I did know something about the ships we had. If enough people who also knew have survived and can get organised, they should be able to find us easily enough, even if most of them are older-generation telepaths."

"I see. Yes, it would be too dangerous to leave any other signs as to the planet's location, in case anyone decides to attack while the colony is still vulnerable."

"And between you and me," Patar told her, in a conspiratorial manner. "It's going to be vulnerable for a long time. I mean, Eliza and I will have our hands full, and we don't know anything about constructing defences."

"Maybe there is something we can still do," Cally replied, her mind working rapidly.

"We carry a range of proximity mines. I'm sure that Avon could adapt them to respond to a certain code or something similar. That way anyone who came too close to the planet and hasn't already contacted you will at least get a warning to stay away. And I'm sure we can sort out some kind of communications relay."

This at least was something she felt she knew about. She'd specialised in communications back on Saurian Major and with Liberator's excellent facilities, her knowledge had expanded greatly. Now all she had to do was to convince Avon to help, which she thought she could probably do, for all his objections about wasting time. They'd already arranged a supply of medical equipment and whatever else they could provide for the fledgling colony's basic survival. Their information on Kaarn was rather limited, but it did appear to have everything a planet could offer for what would be needed.

Patar looked at her a little more closely.

"Are you sure you won't come with us? Even if you don't want to stay, you'd certainly be appreciated in starting everything off."

Cally hesitated.

"I will do what I can. But I can't stay."

"Alright."

Cally was grateful he seemed to accept her words without pressing too hard for an explanation. On top of everything else, she was concerned about Avon.

His obsession with pursuing personal revenge was growing at a dangerous rate and she was a little afraid that it would get him, or indeed all of them, killed. The fact that he was going to Earth didn't help matters; her only experience of that planet had been disastrous.

"Come on, I will show you what I mean," Cally told Patar, leading him off towards the weapons storage area.

She felt a little guilty - more guilt, what a surprise - that she would not be playing a greater role in the reconstruction of Auron's population, but there was a very real limit on what she could actually do. And, as a still bitter part of her pointed out, her people had rejected her once already. She'd become almost used to being a solitary telepath, and while she wouldn't say she was entirely happy that arrangement, or with the company she currently kept, she had grown close to the rest of Liberator's crew. It was ironic; earlier she had said to the others, in her anger towards Avon:

"_Why do you imagine I've never gone back? Affection for him?" _

And now here she was, turning down a chance to be among her people again (albeit in a very different manner to how she had imagined), in order to remain on the Liberator, and her ties to the rest of the crew were playing a much stronger part in her decision than she had ever thought they would.

Not that that was the only reason. Things had changed greatly from when she had first come on board, but her feelings towards Blake's intentions for the end of the Federation had not altered just because he was no longer on board. If she left Liberator, who would be left to ensure that this cause was still fought for?

She did not believe that the others would put Liberator to its best use without her, they were too concerned with their own survival and personal gain.

Avon had been right, as he always claimed to be. As long as the Federation still stood, there was work that had to be done and she intended to spend the rest of her life doing everything she could towards that end. Servalan was secondary to all that. No matter how much Cally hated her, she could not allow her personal hatred to distract her from the real job in hand. The destruction of the Federation. Every last evil part of it.


End file.
